


The First Day of the Rest of Your Life

by Lirillith



Category: Final Fantasy VI
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-23 06:21:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17678111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lirillith/pseuds/Lirillith
Summary: "So what do we do now?"





	The First Day of the Rest of Your Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kandrona](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kandrona/gifts).



After Setzer's airship, in a heroic and terrifying maneuver, had managed to pluck Terra from the sky as she fell; after Kefka's tower had finished crumbling into dust and ashes; after Setzer had flown a victory lap around every remaining outpost of civilization; after it was all over, they were to return to Figaro, for a formal address, for official celebrations, for feasting and festival. But first, at Edgar's request, they set down in the Veldt, and raid the Falcon's stash of wine and spirits, and they all get their feet on solid ground and let themselves breathe, and eat, and drink.

Some approach that differently than others. Cyan is surprised at how little carousing there truly is — perhaps his estimation of Setzer's hedonism and Locke's rough edges is a touch unfair — but he still prefers a quieter rejoicing than the youngsters. A blanket, taken from his bed on the Falcon; a flask of sake, and some distance from the champagne Setzer is pouring into an array of glasses on a folding table so wobbly he can tell it from here. The sun is setting, over the Veldt, and if Cyan wishes to see more than the stars he will need to go back for a light soon. 

Gau accompanies him, to his surprise. "Art not excited, lad?"

"Excited," Gau says, nodding. Then he amends, "Tired."

"Aye, I know that feeling well," Cyan says with a half-laugh. "Join me, then. I'd not pour sake for you any other time, but a special occasion such as this—" He cuts himself off. To pour sake, one needs a cup.

"Forgot something?" Sabin asks. He has a stack of the little cups — the matched set that belongs to the flask, which Cyan had forgotten. And a pair of lanterns, clanking together as they dangle from his hand.

"Aye. Wilt join us, Sir Sabin? I had thought thee might prefer thy brother's company at a time such as this."

"Sabin _stay,"_ Gau decrees, bouncing up from the blanket. 

Sabin smiles. "Why do you think I brought so many cups?"

"Hand me the lanterns, then." 

"You sure? It'll kind of spoil the stargazing."

If he is to choose between the stars or Sabin's face, the choice is simple. 

 

Gau nearly loses patience with them, as they make all their preparations, but after a quick wrestling match with Umaro, he returns to them, setting one of the lanterns wobbling dangerously as he charges back. "Ready _now?"_ he demands.

"Aye, lad," Cyan says, overlapping Sabin's "Only if you sit."

"Gau sitting."

"Butt on the blanket," Sabin says, and Gau, with a put-upon sigh, trades in his crouch for a cross-legged sitting position. 

"Much better." 

Cyan hides his smile. He had long been the taskmaster responsible for wrestling Gau into baths, dealing with the fleas he brought back from every training sojourn on the Veldt, and attempting to keep him looking halfway respectable in cities. And accordingly, he had learned to choose his battles wisely. If the boy refrained from urinating on the walls or eating pigeons in the park, he was welcome to eat with his hands in a restaurant. If he asked for things instead of grabbing them, Cyan was willing to make sense of his "uwao"s and gestures. But when Sabin had been seized with the notion of sprucing Gau up to meet his probable long-lost father, he had adopted Cyan's role with more enthusiasm than prudence; he had labored, mostly in vain, to convince Gau that chairs were for sitting, food was eaten with forks, and clothes were meant to be worn, even if they were less comfortable than prancing about in a handful of animal hides. And while Sabin had tired of the futile struggle before long, he didn't abandon it entirely, even now. 

"Here, then," Cyan says, pouring sake into three small cups. "Take a small sip, Gau," he adds, but Gau, as he should have foreseen, ignores that, gulping down the tiny cup and then erupting into coughing, with a pained "Uwao!"

"A sip!" Sabin exclaims, altogether too late. 

"Burning!" Gau says. "Fire magic!"

"Not magic, lad, alcohol. I advised thee to sip for a reason."

"Well, someone's going to be clocking out early," Sabin says.

"Perhaps the best remedy for the excitement," Cyan says. "I know thou art tired, lad. Wilt stay still with us for a moment?"

"Gau feel... weird." 

"That will be the alcohol, indeed."

"Better drink some water, Gau. Here." Sabin leans back to retrieve a canteen from his pack, sitting at the edge of the blanket. 

"Drink the water, and perhaps lie down, if thou wilt." 

Gau does drink the water, in giant gulps, but then he lowers the canteen, looking giddily up at the sky. "Stars all spinny."

"Yeah, better lie down in a minute," Sabin says, half-laughing. 

 

Gau entertains them, for a time, with his innocent drunkenness, before curling up in a corner of the blanket and falling asleep. Sleeping, he could be as young as Owain was, and Cyan feels a familiar constriction of his throat, a stabbing of grief he'll never fully leave behind. 

"Perhaps I erred," he says, looking through his pack for some jacket or cloak to lay over the sleeping boy. Gau never seems to feel the cold, but it soothes Cyan's conscience all the same.

"Nah, it's a special occasion. It's not like you're sending him out to carouse with licentious howlers. We're celebrating."

"Aye, 'twas my thinking as well, but I hope the lad doesn't pay for it in the morning."

"I think we may all have a bit of a worldsaving hangover in the morning," Sabin says, "if only because we're all too wired to sleep."

"Wired?" He has done all he could to accept this new world of technology and machinery, but sometimes one of the twins, or Setzer, will throw out some term such as this and he's reminded all over again how much he doesn't understand.

"Um... energized. Overexcited. Something like that."

"Ah." 

Silence falls between them, with Sabin's eyes on the pitcher of sake. Cyan refills his cup, but Sabin doesn't react, his eyes fixed and his mind elsewhere. After a moment, he seems to reach some conclusion or decision, and lifts his head to look at Cyan.

"So what do we do now, you think?" he asks, putting voice to the thoughts Cyan hasn't dared to speak.

 _We_. He hadn't wanted to presume. "I had thought of returning to Doma," Cyan says. "Or at least the vicinity. Perhaps not the castle itself — but there were survivors from other Doman settlements, and the castle presents a place they might gather."

"That's true, we saw some signs of life on the island — I remember Gau yelling about it." 

"Aye. Without our king, I know not how the people of Doma might be led, but I would help my people rebuild in any way I can." 

"Huh. That's... I should have expected it." Sabin seems almost deflated. "Guess you have it all planned out, huh?"

"I..." There's something in Sabin's tone he's not sure how to answer. "I have always sought to do what was best for my lord and my kingdom."

"I know." 

The silence stretches on for so long that Cyan has no choice but to ask, "And thee? Hast thou a plan of thy own?" 

"Not a plan, really, just— an idea. It's not a big deal."

"Sir Sabin? What ails thee? Did I say aught amiss, just now?"

"I don't want to make Gau choose between us, you know? But you kind of sound like you've got it all figured out, and like you're planning to go it alone."

"Nothing of the sort! I had... I dared not take thee away from thy own duties. Surely thy brother wishes thy assistance?"

"Dared not...? I mean, I want to help Figaro, but he's got a way better handle on running a kingdom than I do. I asked him and he said he wants me to have my freedom, still. So I'm going to talk to the chancellor about what I can do, but I have a feeling it'll have to be figurehead stuff. There's not a lot of call for royalty to lift really heavy things, which is about all I'm good at." 

"Sabin, thou art selling thyself cheap."

He waved that off. "Other than that... I didn't even think of Doma, Cyan. I'm sorry. My idea was Mobliz. There's not much left of it, but that's the whole point, right? Terra could probably use a hand with all those kids, and some of them were around Gau's age. Might do him good, you know?"

"Aye, it might indeed." Cyan finishes his sake. He had only been thinking of Doma, not of what was best for Gau, or of helping one of the others. "Wouldst thou have me in Mobliz, then?"

"It was just an idea. But if you don't want to go to Mobliz, if you want to be in Doma—" 

"Sir Sabin, I want to be with thee!" 

It's not so hard to say, after all. Perhaps he should have said that at the very start. But Sabin stills at the words; Cyan can hear Edgar's voice, so similar but not the same, at some distance, chivvying Locke about some small matter. 

There is no point now to hesitation. "I wish to be at thy side, above all else," Cyan continues, more softly. "If we might work together to rebuild Doma, I would be happy, and perhaps Gau will find chopsticks easier going than a knife and fork. I would be happy at thy side in Mobliz, we two and Gau. I would join thee in Figaro, if thou wishest, and thy brother would have me there." 

"You would?" Sabin asks, finally; the moment would probably only have been a breath or two, had Cyan been able to breathe. "Really?"

"Aye," Cyan says. He thinks of pouring himself more sake, but fears his hand would shake. "I will follow whither thou goest. As I have since first we met." Across the Veldt, through the sea, and to Narshe. The journey west, in search of Terra, and then to Vector, had been without him, but at his behest and for the sake of companions Sabin had brought to him. The happiest Cyan had been, since even before the siege of Doma, had been when they had been reunited in Zozo, with Terra returned to them but Celes lost; Sabin had impulsively hugged him, then, and Cyan had leaned into the embrace for as long as it lasted, until Sabin pulled back with an apology. 

And it had been Sabin, beaming at him on a mountaintop, Sabin twirling the stem of a silk rose between his fingers and laughing about it, that had brought Cyan back into the fold and into the fight. He had reached a decision already, and he would not have turned away the others; but for Sabin he went with eagerness, with joy. It had been Sabin, standing solid and clear in a wavering, colorless dream world, who had grabbed his hand and pulled him up after Elayne and Owain had bid him one last farewell; Sabin who had pulled him into a bone-cracking embrace when he awakened in Doma. "Whatever thou desirest of me, I will give, as best I am able." 

"I hope you're saying what I think you're saying, Cyan. I wouldn't ever ask you to talk more like a regular person, but sometimes I could use a dictionary."

"I thought I spoke quite clearly, just now."

"I hope you did. Because I want to be with you, too, and I hope we mean in the same way, but—" 

"Sabin," he says. "Thou hast been inside my very soul. Thinkst thou I would speak thus if I only sought thee for a traveling companion?" 

Sabin, finally, smiles; he smiles, and then he starts to laugh, throwing his head back, and the sun comes out in the middle of the night to warm Cyan's old bones. "I should have known," he says, finally. "You're right." 

"We are Gau's fathers, thee and me, whether thou takest me for thy husband or no. I would have us all three together, and I would have us a true family."

"Even if you only wanted to be friends, we'd still be a family, Cyan. Don't make it about that." Sabin still looks troubled, despite his smile. "I was going to ask you to come with me if you didn't have a plan of your own. I definitely wasn't going to drag Gau off to Mobliz without asking him, or you. It was just one place we could go." 

"As Doma is another. But thou dost not seem satisfied."

"Don't worry about it, Cyan. Maybe we should get some rest."

"Did I anger thee when I said we need not marry? I shall seek thy brother's blessing on the morrow, if it troubles thee so."

"Oh, for cryin'—" Sabin suddenly lurches closer, into Cyan's space, their faces only a breath apart. "Why are you talking about marriage? You haven't even kissed me yet!"

"I am from Doma," Cyan says, with as much dignity as he can muster while staring into Sabin's eyes. And his lips. 

"Not so much as a silk flower?" The light from the lantern isn't enough for Cyan to see a twinkle in Sabin's eyes, but he can hear something like it in his voice. 

"Must I offer one before I kiss thee?"

"Nah, it can wait," Sabin says, and Cyan kisses his smiling lips. 


End file.
